FourWheel Drive
by AwayForLunch
Summary: Tyler and Reid.
1. FourWheel Drive

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.

**Four-Wheel Drive** (Tyler and Reid)

Tyler wondered how Reid knew. His mischievous blond friend had not been spying on him, surely – had he? Then again, there was the Power, and Reid could have had done anything with the Power. Tyler smiled inwardly, the thought of Reid spying on him sending an unexpected warm sensation down his spine.

The bitter cold surged round him as he strutted out of Nicky's alone. Tyler sighed; he had always been sensitive to the slightest of cold draughts. Maybe that was why he regularly borrowed Reid's cardigan. In fact he was even wearing it right now – Reid's favourite cardigan, and his favourite too, though it was not his. The cardigan was the darkest of navy-blues on the outside, but the inner layer was a dark shade of red. It exuded style and spunk, and it was a cool cardigan, and Reid was indeed a self-professed cool person.

But more importantly to Tyler, Reid's navy-blue cardigan was warm, much warmer than his own green one. Reid's cardigan was the insulator of wind and sleet and any weather which had the slightest threat of being a little colder than usual. Tyler loved the warmth each time he wore it. In fact, he probably loved it more than Reid did.

Reid . . . where was he now? Ah, there he was, leaning nonchalantly against Tyler's polished Hummer in that sleek way of his which gave the impression of casually lounging against the vehicle.

Reid yawned and smiled as Tyler approached. The autumn was cold indeed.

"Here you go," said Reid, tossing Tyler's car keys to him. "You'll need to fill this baby up, I took her for quite a ride out to town."

Tyler sighed. "Next time, use your own car, creep," he replied wearily, knowing that Reid would never use his own car, that Reid adored the four-wheel drive too much.

"Let's go play pool, okay?" offered Reid, nudging his head towards Nicky's.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "I just got out." But his words were lost in the cold autumn winds as Reid grabbed him by the shoulders and hustled him into Nicky's.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finally. _Finally. _Finally, the insufferable Reid got bored of billiards. After two hours of non-stop playing. Tyler raised his eyes to the late afternoon sky. _Thank God for ending the most boring game of pool in my life. _Nicky's had been near empty, and it had only been Reid and Tyler at the billiard table. But the mere lack of players would never staunch Reid's love for billiards, and Tyler had to endure a two-hour game of billiards with Reid, who seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. _As if he did not see my pointed yawing throughout the game_, thought Tyler coldly.

"You cold, Tyler?" Reid said, noticing Tyler shiver slightly as they headed towards Tyler's Hummer.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "No, just bored," he answered pointedly. But it was cold indeed, and Tyler shivered more than once, despite the warmth of Reid's cardigan.

Reid smiled lopsidedly. "That's my favourite cardigan you're wearing, and you still find it cold? Sheesh. You wear practically all my sweatshirts and you're never warm." Tyler ignored him, it was too cold to answer, and Reid ruffled a disgruntled Tyler's hair.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Perhaps it was all just psychological, but Tyler loved wearing Reid's clothing for another reason – he _felt_ Reid. Wearing Reid's sweatshirts or putting on Reid's favourite navy-blue-and-red cardigan when he felt the cold sent warm shivers down his spine each time. He smelt Reid's familiar smell of beer and cologne each time he put on something of Reid's, and took comfort in the wonderful smell that was Reid. Perhaps, just perhaps, when he wore Reid's clothing, Reid's bottomless reserves of style and suaveness and mischief and _confidence_, would 'rub off' on him and made him just that little bit less shy. In fact, he clearly remembered spontaneously asking a beautiful girl out on a date, and he was wearing Reid's cardigan then, and his subconscious mind had prompted him: _Go on, ask her, do what Reid would do, you're the confident blond now, how does Reid do it anyway?_ And the girl had said yes.

And now Tyler was driving the both of them back to the dormitories, and he was expecting Reid to ask the same old question, and steeled himself – he was not going to give in now.

"Let me drive?"

Tyler cast a sideways smile at Reid. "I'm already driving," he said tersely.

Reid had a playful smile about his lips, but what was even scarier was the flashing look that now dominated the bright blue recesses of the blonde's eyes. Reid eyes said: _You know but I shall end up driving, you know it oh so well._

'Just leave off me and let me drive my car for once," Tyler repeated, although Reid had not uttered a word, and for good measure, Tyler stepped on the accelerator a little harder. They were speeding now.

He had certainly not expected Reid to do it. Tyler's foot on the accelerator faltered as he felt wet lips kissing and caressing his neck. No, Reid was _not_ doing this, he _couldn't_.

"Let me drive," Reid mumbled in between his kisses and bites. Tyler was currently in heaven, at least, his neck was. Tyler let one hand off the steering wheel to push Reid off half-heartedly, and the Hummer veered precariously to the left. Reid was not to be defeated; the blond pulled Tyler's face to meet his, and Tyler abandoned road safety for Reid's irresistible kiss.

And the Hummer skidded uncontrollably.

--

**Phew. That was my first attempt at this slash-ey stuff. I owe my inspiration to all Reid/Tyler shippers, especially Kos-Mos607 and her laugh-out-loud Covenant lists! This is your fault, LoL. Hope you enjoyed this and may I take this opportunity to ask Kos-Mos607 to update her hilarious lists.**


	2. And Tyler Remembered

**2. And Tyler Remembered**

Tyler remembered when Reid used to bully him. They were both younger then, relishing an innocent boyhood devoid of the Power. The days of their childhood when the Covenant was a delicious family secret, and they were too young to be privy to it. The days when Tyler sat on the swings, wrapped in every known winter article of clothing, watching Caleb and Pogue frolicking about in the snow, and all of their parents had smiled knowingly to one another, knowing that the filial bonds formed between the boys now would be crucial for the Covenant itself when they each grew up. And Reid Garwin had been his sole tormentor.

Reid pushing a frightened Tyler off the swings, Reid telling Tyler he was a 'mummy's boy' who was too weak to climb trees with Caleb and Pogue, Reid who 'accidentally' pushed a surprised Tyler into the swimming pool on a regular basis, Reid who nastily assaulted Tyler with snowballs each winter, Reid who spitefully drenched Tyler's homework with orange juice, leaving a sodden mush of running ink and paper which had once been Tyler's highly commended English essay. Reid glaring at Tyler with his icy blue eyes when Tyler tearfully ran to seek solace in his mother, Reid who filled Tyler's school bag with fresh soil from the Danvers farm, Reid who cruelly announced to the world that Tyler would never ever be his friend.

Reid had been a delinquent then, his mischief and infamy had known no boundaries. Reid had been the worry and consternation of the Garwin family. No ounce of corporal punishment, no mother's stinging slap, no beating or scolding could have stopped Reid. Reid, though young, had already familiarised himself with the lure of alcohol (cheap store-bought Guiness beer), and had been distancing himself from the company of Caleb and Pogue, and had been spending much time with Ipswich's notorious teenage gang, a troublemaking group of louts who stopped at nothing in their passion for vandalism. Reid pulled at the ponytails of little girls, snickering when they screamed in a mixture of anger, embarrassment and pain. But the girls had blushed too, for all the girls were childishly in love with Reid then. And Reid saved all his capacity to hurt for Tyler alone.

Caleb and Pogue were not blind to Tyler's misfortune. After all, Reid's bullying was blatant. But nothing much could have been done. Pogue, always the fun and amiable one, had resolved to turn a blind eye to Tyler and Reid's mutual dislike, as he found it awkward to take sides. Caleb, ever the noble and well-meaning person, had taken it upon himself to gently chide Reid for treating Tyler "a little badder than you treat other people." Reid derived an inexplicable joy from bullying Tyler, and if Tyler suffered from it then . . . that was his problem.

Perhaps the villain deserved some credit, as Tyler, despite his constant sufferings at Reid's hands, learnt to steel himself to Reid's biting words and insults. Tyler learnt to pick himself up, ignore Reid's threats, to defend himself with his fists when Reid hit him, and most importantly, to cleverly avoid his tormentor when Reid was out and looking for trouble. But cultivating this emotional armour to protect himself from Reid wrought a change in Tyler's once care-free and rambunctious character. Tyler withdrew into himself, burying his emotional wounds in a sea of quiet solitude. Tyler drew away from others, speaking less but listening and watching more. Caleb and Pogue became a far-away memory, as Tyler's bleak moods distanced himself from his friends. Tyler suffered alone, in his eternal winter of loneliness and despair and solitude, and Reid would never again touch him in this shell which he had created.

All Reid knew was that Tyler had become dulled to his bullying; Tyler was ever unresponsive to his nasty pranks. This disconcerted Reid slightly but did not stop him. And Tyler's mother would tell other adults what a shy boy he had become, always with that angst-stricken which marred his cute face, and the other adults would provide meaningless words of reassurance, saying that it was probably teenage hormones, not to worry, my son has it too.

Caleb's father, who looked unusually old for his age (and indeed seemed more like Caleb's grandfather) had retired to the dark depths of the Danvers farm, living there as a strange recluse. During that time, the four boys, future heirs of the Covenant, had only begun to be aware of the Power which had dwelled dormant in them during the childhood years. The Power was strange and otherworldly, but it could not be denied that the Power was intoxicating, and all the boys were guilty of using the Power at every whim, Reid the most. Caleb had decided to pay a secret visit to his father, and all the boys had joined him out of sheer curiosity. For truly the whole of Ipswich harboured a desire to know what dark things went on in the defunct Danvers farmhouse. Certainly no one had seen Caleb's intriguing father for years now. And the boys made a clandestine decision to go to the Danvers farmhouse during the darkest hour of the night. They would not get caught, Caleb had said reassuringly, and even if they did, well, their Powers would see them out of it. Reid and Tyler had set aside their differences for this one occasion, for the curiosity which burnt in the boys' minds was overwhelming.

And the boys made their way through the night, each feeling the biting guilt children feel when they are disobedient, when they know that they are doing something _wrong_. And the farmhouse loomed up ahead, and they could see it bathed in the faintest of moonlights, and each felt his heart thundering away. Tyler, in becoming a withdrawn person, had become more cautious, more observant, more _afraid_, and perhaps this was why Tyler sensed it first. Danger, yes, but someone was waiting. Waiting. And Tyler's eyes blackened with the Power, though he did not know it, and using his Power, he sought out the person, the sprit, the _thing_, he knew not what, only that someone was waiting, waiting. And Reid had scoffed at the frightened expressions of the others, and pretended that he was not afraid, and ran towards the farmhouse, blinded with the need to prove that he was brave, that he was strong. At that moment, Tyler saw, with his Power, the person who awaited them, and what that person was going to do to them, and Tyler ran like never before after Reid. Tyler's eyes were blacker than the night itself, and so great was the premonition of death which had been etched in his mind with the Power that he overtook Reid, grabbed and pulled the angry blond boy, and shielded Reid from the gunshot with his very own body.

Tyler only felt pain, only knew pain, and the last remnants of his consciousness told him that he had been shot, he had been shot, _he had been shot_. Reid, trapped in Tyler arms, was pulled to the ground by Tyler's body weight as Tyler collapsed. Caleb and Pogue were frozen by pure shock, and stayed where they were. And the Danvers farmhouse was bathed in blinding light from the house lamps which had been turned on, and Caleb's old and feeble father had staggered desperately out of the Danvers farmhouse. And then it was over. A mulling confusion of events had occurred, Tyler in his dull haze of pain had dimly perceived many adults round him, Reid's father, Pogue's father, his own daddy, Caleb's tear-stained face had a guilty look on it, Tyler had been shot, shot in the dark by a man named Gorman, Tyler could see Reid with his blurry vision, and wait, was Reid crying? Bright, bright light, not electric light but light which only the Power could generate. And then Tyler surrendered his last shred of consciousness, and launched into an oblivion of painless sleep. And when Tyler awoke to daylight, his gunshot wound had mysteriously disappeared, and his mother was smiling proudly at him.

And Reid had smiled weakly at Tyler the next time they met, and asked Tyler if he would like to race him at tree climbing. And the next day, the both of them played with gambling cards, and the day after that they swam in the local river (which was muddy), and they watched the big guys play pool at Nicky's from the back window, and the day after that they caught a stray mongrel and tried to tame it, and the day after that . . .

--

**Hope you found that a nice read. I know it's not really a sequel to my first chapter, but I'll try to get that sorted out. It takes some time for the inspiration to kick in, you know. I really hope they make a sequel to 'The Covenant' even though it's not a very good show to begin with. Thanks to my reviewers, by the way.**


	3. Smoke

**3. Smoke**

Tyler's Hummer was a present, a birthday present from a proud, doting father with high expectations of his only son. The Hummer was tailored to rugged perfection; reinforced glass windows, a bulky and sturdy frame of steel alloy, four immense tyres which withstood all terrain, and – every avid motorist's dream – an engine which was sheer strength, of countless horsepower and what-not. The Hummer was the pride of the affluent, a luxury vehicle for the well-off, disguised in a thin illusion of ruggedness which put to shame all ordinary sedans. For deep in the hearts of certain rich men there lies dormant a shameful desire to live the adventurous life, to drive through inhospitable terrain and face countless and deliciously dangerous obstacles along the way – and to them this was _the_ life, and they could be _real_ men. And thus the Hummer catered to this need, enabling them to live out their extravagant fantasies of daring escapades through forests in a wonderfully rugged four-wheel drive. And Tyler's father possessed this dream, and he wanted his only son to experience what he could not experience: the exhilarating joy of bumpy rides through the forests of Ipswich, into the wilderness, into the unknown. And Tyler's father could easily afford it, and the dream materialised into a Hummer for his beloved son, and all Tyler knew was that he had got an all-terrain four-wheel luxury vehicle for his birthday, instead of the convertible sports car he had asked for.

But Tyler learnt to love his Hummer (over time), and how could he not grow to love it, when Caleb's admiring eyes constantly hovered over every inch of the four-wheel drive, and Pogue could not deny that a Hummer was marginally cooler than his motorcycle, and Reid – Reid loved it most of all. Reid's deep envy was simply wonderful, and amused Tyler greatly. Reid was too proud to openly display his jealousy and admiration for the Hummer, but it showed – Reid would borrow the Hummer even for the shortest of journeys, and Reid would habitually seat himself behind the wheel of the Hummer, with Tyler taking the passenger seat in an unspoken agreement. Reid did not have a car of his own – his parents would not trust him with one.

* * *

Tyler had a general vague idea of road accidents. There was the moment of impact, flames, the stench of oil from a burning bonnet, broken glass, blood, and the tremendous explosion as petrol met stray flames. There would ambulances with screeching sirens, excited paramedics, and finally Gloucester Hospital.

_This_, thought Tyler as his dry lips responded to Reid's kiss, _is definitely _not_ a road accident. _

Reid pulled away and smiled at a blushing Tyler. "You looked so cute lying on the grass, I couldn't help it."

Tyler frowned. He was indeed lying on the grass verge, and his Hummer . . .

Smoke in the distance, further down the isolated road. That would have to be his Hummer.

"I had to Use to get us out of there before it crashed. Hey, maybe Pogue can give us a lift." Reid did not sound in the least worried, or even remotely affected by what had just occurred.

It was Reid's fault. Idiot. Reid caused this mess, Reid had wrecked his Hummer, Reid had kissed him on purpose, and he had lost control of the Hummer, Reid would pay dearly for this, oh yes he would, Reid –

Reid had kissed him . . .

* * *

**That's it. I'm sorry it's short and not very good. Flame me if you like, haha. I'll (try) to do better next time. I just wanted to end that earlier story arc in chapter one. Sigh . . . And I've run out of ideas . . . I need Help. Please . . . ?**

**P.S. And they have really got to make a sequel to 'The Covenant'. For Reid and Tyler's sake.**


	4. From the Window

**4. From the Window**

Reid Garwin was wearing his signature black motorcycle gloves, gloves with the fingers cut out, which accentuated his rogue-boy image. And with those gloved hands Reid now caressed the girl's bare back, while his pale blue eyes fiercely scanned the girl's face for any change in expression which might indicate resistance to his forwardness. There was none. The girl, obviously, wanted him as much as he wanted her. Their lips met forcefully in a cold kiss, and their bodies were locked in a lusty embrace, and there they stood in front of the dormitory building which cast its evening shadow over them.

And Tyler watched them from the window, and, for all his jealousy and spite and rage, had not the strength to look away.

Now Reid moved his gloved hands up the girl's back, moving towards her hair, and Tyler watched hungrily as Reid took his hands off the girl's back momentarily and slowly removed his gloves. The gloves went into Reid's pocket, and Reid's hands were now stroking the girl's blond hair gently but unceasingly. Their lips never parted from the kiss, and Tyler deduced that they were most probably tongue-kissing, _tongue-kissing_. Tyler closed his eyes for a brief interval and tried his utmost to visualise Reid kissing _him_ instead, Reid's tongue in _his_ mouth, but opened his eyes again. He had to keep watching. The girl's hair was blond, but a kind of dirty blond colour that could never compare with the paleness of Reid's blond hair. Reid's hands were no longer in the girl's hair, where were they now? There they were, Reid's hands, on the prominent curve of the girl's jeans, Reid's palms were moving in sensual circles on the girl's butt, for what more could be expected of Reid? Reid, who had no cares for romantic gestures when his primary motive was sex. They had stopped kissing, but Reid now bent his head at an angle and began kissing the girl's neck. Reid took his time about neck-kissing; Tyler's eyes were riveted to the way Reid's lips would pause for agonising intervals on different areas of the girl's neck, sucking and biting simultaneously with the intention of leaving hickeys. The girl would proudly bear the evidence of Reid's love-bites on her neck the next day, and be the object of envy of all her friends. Tyler, from this distance, could not hear the anything from out there, but he was sure the girl would be moaning by now. Tyler's hand rose unconsciously to his own neck, and fingers traced patterns in his neck, while he attempted to imagine Reid kissing and biting _him_, Reid sucking on _his_ skin, Reid giving _him _hickeys. Tyler froze – Reid's hands had inched their way under the girl's ample blouse. Tyler watched breathlessly as Reid's hands were now completely lost within the folds of the girl's blouse, Reid was touching her stomach, progressing higher and higher ever so slowly, in case the girl might protest.

The girl did not protest – she _smiled_, and it was at that moment that Tyler truly hated her with a vehemence which boiled his nerves and dulled his thoughts in a rising haze of bloodthirsty anger. His heart thundered away in his chest, and blood rose in his cheeks, and he was blushing now, blushing not with embarrassment but with rage. He hated her so much, _hated _her. He wanted, _needed _her right here in front of him, so he could kill her, _kill_ her now, and his inhuman anger would subside. She was welcoming Reid's advances with a smile, she was encouraging Reid, she _wanted_ Reid. This was not a sweetly romantic make-out session, this was _foreplay_. Blatant, conspicuous, undisguised foreplay. Tyler let out an accidental moan under his breath as he watched Reid caress the girl's bra underneath her blouse. Tyler for a brief heterosexual moment wondered what kind of bra it was. A lacy bra, probably, and maybe pink-coloured, or black. Tyler focussed his attention on Reid now, he could not bear to see what pleasures the girl was receiving; she did not deserve it, she did not deserve Reid. Reid's eyes had a glazed look to it, were they clouded with lust, or had Reid been drinking? Tyler hated the girl, hated the – the _bitch_. So much, so much hatred. Reid hair was tousled, made ruffled by the girl's stroking hands. Tyler drank in the view of Reid's body – a muscular, streamlined swimmer's body – as Reid pressed himself to the girl. Tyler's eyes widened as Reid pulled the unresisting girl towards the dormitory building.

Oh Reid, please fucking stop. Not with _her_.

Tyler's anger blossomed magnificently. His blood burnt within his veins as the Power, ignited by his emotions, rose in him. Tyler let out a shuddering breath as his eyes flared up, then blackened. His hands were sweaty and unsteady, and his thoughts were nothing but random, erratic shreds in the face of his rage. He would wreak hell on the girl, and he would kill Reid for this too. Reid ought to be kissing _him_, biting _him,_ touching _him_, removing _his_ shirt and –

Tyler smiled a menacing smile which distorted his boyish features. He would stop this _now_. He would meet the two right now in the hallway, and his Power was in full swing now, and he would kill . . . the girl? Reid? No, he would kiss Reid, _kiss_ Reid, he would thrust his hungry tongue into Reid's surprised mouth while the girl would stand there in absolute shock. He would run his hands underneath Reid's shirt and caress Reid's taut abdominal muscles, relishing the scent of Reid. He would pull his shirt off right there and then, and let a confused Reid drink in the sight of his own body, and then he would pull Reid's shirt off too, while the girl would gape at them as her dreams of a perfect one-night stand collapsed round her. Tyler would give Reid no time to react, to protest, and Reid would be in such an advanced stage of lust and excitement that he would sleep with just about _anyone_. And Tyler's hands would move downwards to Reid's pants, no, Reid's belt first, and . . .

Revenge. Yes, revenge too. Reid was at fault as much as the girl. Reid would suffer for being so promiscuous, when he ought only to love Tyler alone. Yes, he would make Reid beg, make Reid plead, make Reid _hunger_ for his body, he would, he would fuck Reid and make him _pay_ for being so fucking _sexy_, he would –

"Tyler?"

Reid's hesitant voice. Tyler did not turn round, he did not want Reid to see his anger, his blackened eyes, his flushed face, his sweaty brow.

"Ty, I – uh – won't be sleeping here tonight, if y'know what I mean. Got a girl and all that."

Tyler's anger ebbed away alarmingly quickly, and he replied in a defeated tone. "Yeah. Good luck."

"Love you, Tyler."

* * *

**Ahem. A few apologies first: sorry about the language, sorry about the 'mature content', and sorry that this chapter is (again) quite unrelated to other chapters. I'll sort that out, I promise. What a scandalous thing I have written. Eww. Haha. (To previous reviewers, thanks for your ideas, for I'm really struggling.)**


	5. Mine

**Perhaps I ought to explain things a bit first: This short chapter is written from the point of view of Tyler's Mary-Sue girlfriend. She's jealous, very jealous. And I've started on working out a proper plot to connect my chapters, 'cause I really don't want to do one-shots. Enjoy!**

* * *

**5. Mine**

She knew she was pretty – she had the requisite slim figure which had the faintest hourglass outline. She didn't need make-up, her face was exquisitely featured enough. But that didn't stop her from applying the odd dash of lip-gloss. And from the top of her shiny black hair to the tips of her delicately manicured toes, she was near-perfect. And she knew it. Her sultry figure drew the attention of many boys at Spenser Academy, and she liked the attention. Not that she was so self-possessed and vain, but she was a beautiful girl and that was what you got for being beautiful. Hungry, furtive stares, discreet pieces of paper asking for her number, and what-not.

Too late, boys. I've got a boyfriend. Tyler Simms.

Tyler Simms was a dream. She loved the way Tyler would stare off into the distance sometimes when they were talking, and when she tried to catch his attention, he would turn and kiss her impulsively. She loved the way Tyler would get all shy and red-cheeked when she suggested they go on another date. She loved the way Tyler swam in the swimming pool. Heck, her eyes would be riveted on Tyler's bare back as he catapulted towards the other end of the pool, arms powering him on in a freestyle. Tyler was picture-perfect when swimming. Not to mention how he looked in a speedo.

Not anymore.

Now she began to notice things, slight things, the smallest of indications that perhaps Tyler wasn't so in love with her as she had formerly thought. There was the way Tyler acted in front of Reid, for example. Tyler would give a shy smile at Reid and congratulate him for that great shot during a game of pool, and Reid would ruffle Tyler's hair and Tyler would _blush_. She saw how Tyler's eyes followed Reid, how Tyler's eyes scanned Reid's entire figure, how Tyler took the effort to stand beside Reid, as close to Reid as he could get, as if that just one touch from Reid would make his day.

No. Tyler and Reid had always been best friends. And she was Tyler's girlfriend. _Beautiful_ girlfriend, let's not forget that.

But then she saw how Reid would whisper in Tyler's ear when the two boys played pool, and it was a _sexy_ kind of whisper, with Reid's lips positively touching Tyler ear. She saw how Reid would stand behind Tyler and wrap his arms round Tyler's waist, and laugh. And Tyler's eyes would brighten, as if, as if he was . . . excited? As if his heart were beating faster?

No. Tyler was her boyfriend. _Her_ boyfriend. After all, she was the most beautiful and most perfect Mary-Sue in all Ipswich.


	6. Swim

**6. Swim**

Tyler stood at the edge of the swimming pool, and gazed dreamily at the ripples on the surface of the blue, blue water. The smell of chlorine filled his nostrils, but he was used to it, after countless years of swimming practices. Heck, he had swallowed mouthfuls of swimming pool water before.

He adjusted his tight-fitting speedo and lowered his goggles over his eyes. The world was now a tinted shade of violet.

Then he lowered his body, and dived in as quietly as he could. The water was unusually cold.

Breaststroke. His favourite. Curl your legs up, chest thrust ahead. Hands in front, bent slightly. Tense your abdominal muscles, and _kick_. Kick out, kick hard, whip out, froggy-style. Feel your body glide effortlessly forwards, and breathe out. Tyler smiled lucidly. This was what made life worthwhile – to swim.

He had reached the other end of the pool. Lift you legs up to your chest, approach the wall, and kick. Kick out and propel yourself backwards, and as you lift off sideways you are level with the water again, and let the breaststroke take control of you again.

Tyler blinked. Someone else was in the water. He was sure he had been alone. He had not heard anyone. He lifted his goggles from his face and, legs treading the water, peered at the swimming figure at the other end.

_Whoever that guy is, he's swimming in my lane. Get out of my lane, please. Get the hell out of my way._

The other swimmer was propelling himself powerfully through the water in a freestyle, and he was in Tyler's lane, he was an intruder, and he was heading ever closer to Tyler. Tyler could only stare blankly at this blatant provocation, legs still treading water.

_Don't mess with me, stranger. You know you're in my lane, and I'm not budging._

But the other swimmer plunged through the water, and pummeled with full bodily force into Tyler. Tyler's breath was pressed out of him, and he could not utter a word as the other swimmer pushed him under the surface with fierce strength.

Tyler legs kicked out defiantly, and he fought against the other swimmer who held him under.

_Fight back, damn it!_

And Tyler's arms came up, and he ploughed into his assailant with all his might. He was fighting back, hurting the creep who was trying to drown him. Now two entangled bodies thrashed furiously in the pool, and Tyler was losing the battle.

He was weakening. His fucking attacker cleverly prevented him from getting enough air, pushing Tyler's head down when it came up gasping, always pulling Tyler down, down, down, down.

Tyler was weak, he needed air, his lungs protested against this outrageous lack of air.

Tyler's underwater punches became more faint, even the resistance of the water was beginning to tire his muscles. And the other swimmer wrapped his arms round Tyler, and forced Tyler further underwater.

_Bloody hell. Need air. _

And Tyler summoned his Power.

A black-eyed Tyler pushed his assailant with multiplied strength that the assailant's grip untangled, and the other swimmer was thrust all the way to the other side of the pool, making violent ripples in the water the whole way. And Tyler's legs now possessed energy only the Power could provide, and Tyler kicked just one kick, and he was up, breaking the surface, into the fluorescent light, into much-needed air.

And he saw his assailant more clearly. Reid.

Reid grinned at him from the other end of the pool, laughing weakly, looking a little winded from the inhuman blow Tyler had dealt him.

"Gotcha, didn't I? God that was funny."

Tyler got out of the pool slowly, mind barely controlling his blooming fury. And Tyler walked out.

"Hey Ty, it was a joke."

Tyler turned round to face Reid's worried grin. "You thought it was fucking _funny_? Well I almost fucking _drowned_," Tyler spat into Reid's face.

And Tyler shoved Reid into the swimming pool.

Splash.

* * *

**I'll continue this, of course. Feel free to give me any ideas, prompts, suggestions, blah. 'Cause I need more ideas for a plot. Please (doggy-eyed look at readers and reviewers). **


	7. Jerk

**7. Jerk**

Reid hurried after Tyler, ignoring the cold wind blowing in his face.

"TYLER!"

Tyler continued trudging purposefully towards his Hummer. Not for the first time he noticed the badly dented side of his Hummer. Reid's fault. His anger intensified. He would give Reid the cold shoulder. A small thought ran through his mind: _So I'm mad at Reid. Well, that's all good and nice and emotional, but where will I freaking SLEEP? I'm NOT going back to our room after what happened._

"Tyler, what the hell is up with you? Tyler!"

Reid's shouts were getting louder as he neared Tyler. _Damn it, I'm gonna have to walk faster._

Tyler's hand closed upon the door handle of his Hummer, but Reid grabbed it and refused to let go. "Tyler–"

Tyler did his best to summon up a vicious glare and threw it at Reid.

Reid was confused, but he couldn't help looking slightly amused. "Ty, if there's anything wrong, just say it and stop acting like a girl."

Tyler's hair was still wet from his swim, and so was Reid's. Reid was an idiot, seriously.

"You fucking _drowned_ me just now, remember? And you wrecked the side of my Hummer the other night? When you were drunk? And you lost my fucking Literature notes? It sort of adds up, you know?" Tyler shoved Reid away roughly. "Now get the hell off me or I'll push you back into the swimming pool again."

Reid smirked. "Give me a break, Ty." And Reid reached out and gently caressed an infuriated Tyler's cheek. Reid was wearing a circular earring on his right ear. Tyler thought he looked fucking cute, despite himself.

No. He was angry at Reid, and angry he would be.

Tyler turned his cheek away from Reid's caress, and Reid saw a malicious glimmer in Tyler's eyes. And something else, too . . .

"Don't touch me, Reid. I'm not your girlfriend. You already have one, remember?"

And Tyler punched Reid hard in the stomach, and as Reid flew up, up into the air, and landed some distance away with a resounding grunt Tyler realised he had used his Power as well. Tyler's breath caught. He had not meant to use his Power, not at all. Not on his friend, no matter how angry he was. What was happening to him?

Tyler's guilt overwhelmed him, and he moved towards the crumpled Reid. "Reid, hey, you okay?"

And Tyler stopped when he saw Reid get up with some difficulty, hands gripping an aching stomach, eyes black with Power and rage combined.

_Shit. Reid's gonna Use on me._

Tyler ran to his Hummer, scrambled in, and turned on the ignition. As the Hummer rumbled Tyler saw Reid levitating a nearby rubbish bin with his Power.

Tyler pressed down on the accelerator, and switched gear as rapidly as he could. From his rear-view mirror he could see Reid throwing the rubbish bin with telekinetic force at the Hummer, at him.

Tyler swerved to the right and the rubbish bin missed its target, flying by the four-wheel drive and crashing somewhere. And Tyler drove away.

* * *

_Where do I go to now? Crash at Caleb's house? Nah, spending the night at Caleb's house with his drunk and brooding mother would be too awkward. What about Pogue's? Nope. Pogue was with Kate for the night. _

And so Tyler ended up dumping his bag on a squeaky, musky bed in the back room of Nicky's. Old Nicky had been kind enough to grudgingly allow a desperate Tyler the use of the back room to sleep in for the night. Just one night, and then he would have to worry about getting a place again.

The rusty bedsprings creaked as Tyler sat down and buried his face in his palms.

_God why did I use on Reid. Reid I'm fucking sorry, okay? I just wanted to punch your stupid stomach, not Use on you._

Tyler jerked at the sound of his cell phone's ringing tone. He cast a glance at the caller ID and his thoughts raced. It was Reid. Tyler shut his phone off and lay back on the old bed. Reid could call up his stupid girlfriend instead. Reid's stupid girlfriend.

_Am I jealous? Nope._

As Tyler closed his eyes, entering the blissful world of darkness and dreams, he recalled the time he watched Reid and his girlfriend make out from a window. Reid kissing a girl. Humph.

Tyler felt lost, and empty inside. So he held on to his anger, for it was the only emotion left within him. Anger at Reid's practical joke in the swimming pool. Anger at Reid's _complete_ irresponsibility. Why did Reid have to dent his beautiful Hummer? Why did Reid never return his notes? Why did Reid have a girlfriend, when –

_Whoa. Don't go there, Tyler. Reid's girlfriend was unspoken territory. _

_But . . . _

_Reid had kissed him before, hadn't he? A few times, sometimes playfully, sometimes lustily. Reid's hot breath on his neck, Reid hugging him tenderly, Reid's arms round him, telling him the dark was nothing to be afraid of, that he could go to sleep now, and if there were any Darklings or zombies Reid would protect him. Tyler could just fall in love with Reid during those times._

Tyler stopped. No, no, no. Anger, remember? Be angry, Tyler, 'cause Reid is such a JERK.

* * *

Reid looked at his cell phone in disgust. Tyler had just cancelled his call. What the hell. He had wanted to call Tyler, to apologise to him maybe, or make Tyler apologise to _him_. What was up with Ty nowadays? Seriously.

_Tyler overreacted, that was it. I mean, come on, I've played zillions of practical jokes on that baby boy before. The swimming pool joke wasn't the first. Tyler was really living up to his nickname. A nickname given by that gold-electroplated Caleb. _

_Baby boy._

Caleb had come up with the nickname years before, during their younger years when Pogue had just attained his motorcycle licence, and Pogue would take each of his brothers for joy rides on his new (second-hand) bike. And Tyler would be terrified. Absolutely chicken. A mortified Tyler would plaster himself to Pogue, arms pasted round Pogue's waist, face embedded into Pogue's jacket, neck sweaty and heart thumping. And when the motorcycle started moving Tyler would _freak out _and whimper, and Caleb had called Tyler a baby boy, and Caleb thought he was so _smart_ to come up with such a _funny_ nickname, but what was important was that the name had stuck. Because Tyler was a baby boy, and would always be one.

Reid arched his back and winced at the pain. God, his back was so damn sore. Tyler's punch had been more than just a punch, it had been the Power. He could still remember the weightless feeling as Tyler's punch sent him soaring through the air.

_Why did Tyler fucking Use on me?_

Reid sighed, and cast another lingering look at the empty bed across the dormitory room.

* * *

It was only when Tyler looked down on himself that he realised he was still wearing Reid's cardigan, the denim one with the red hood. Tyler took it off and threw it into a corner. He wasn't going to wear anything belonging to the jerk. But then the cold got the better of him and before he knew it he had retrieved Reid's cardigan and had curled up on the bed with it, burying his nose in the scent of cologne and beer – the scent of Reid – which emanated from the cardigan.

* * *

**Thanks to ****capristar2213**** for your ideas. You rock.**

**Read and review, but more importantly send me any random idea/prompt/suggestion/blah you come up with to help push my plot along. Anything. Anyone. Please.**

**Hope you guys liked this!**


	8. Hurts like Hell

**8. Hurts like Hell**

Tyler opened his eyes to the faint rays of the New England sun penetrating the grimy window of the back room.

He felt groggy, and tired, and wished he hadn't woken up at all. Blood thumped away painfully inside his head. _God, I need a fucking painkiller._

He dragged himself to the toilet and stared at his scruffy and sleep-ruffled reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Tyler gagged, his bowels heaved, and he vomited.

He fell into a faint, head hitting the cold marble tiles, but he felt no pain, no more pain, as his consciousness slinked away.

* * *

Pogue's cell phone vibrated away in his pocket, and he grudgingly answered it. It was Caleb.

"Pogue?"

"What's up, man, hurry up 'cause I'm screwing Kate right now."

"Very fucking funny, Pogue. Coach says there's gonna be swimming practice at five this evening."

"Hell no. It's freaking Saturday and my thighs are aching like mad from yesterday's swim."

"You know we gotta do this if were going to beat Quincy Public and Worcester Institute. Those Worcester idiots are _huge_, man. I swear they're getting away with doping or some drug shit."

Pogue paused. "You didn't just call me to tell me this, did you?"

"No."

"Well?"

"Tyler didn't go back to his dorm last night. Reid sound really worried when he called me 'bout it, so I don't think it's a joke. And I can't get through to Ty's cell. He's not picking up I guess."

"Uh-huh."

"Any idea?"

Pogue's brow wrinkled in a moment's thought. Tyler? Surprising. What was up with him? "Nope. But I could scout round in my bike and ask some people who may have seen him, stuff like that."

"Yeah, thanks, man. Swimming practice at five."

"I know, dammit. Bye."

Pogue hung up and headed towards his motorcycle, putting on his leather jacket and helmet while he walked. He had a pretty good idea where Tyler was.

* * *

The back room of Nicky's bar was clogged with boxes and junk. Amongst the mess was a run-down bed. Pogue headed towards the toilet, and found, amidst puddles of vomit, an unconscious Tyler.

_Crap._

"Ty?" said Pogue while gently moving Tyler onto his back. Pogue's fingers searched for Tyler's pulse. Slow, but there. Pogue bodily lifted Tyler up with his arms, grunting with the exertion, and carried him to the bed. Pogue's hands rubbed Tyler's face, bringing a blush back to the formerly bloodless and ashen cheeks.

And Tyler opened his eyes ever so slowly, and Pogue sighed in relief. But wait . . . Tyler's eyes . . .

Were flaring.

And now they were black.

Too late.

Pogue made a perfectly curved trajectory across the back room, slamming into the plaster of the walls. And Tyler walked with a dreadful calmness out of the room, leaving Pogue to slip from physical pain into the anaesthesia of unconsciousness.

* * *

_I need a fucking painkiller. A painkiller. A painkiller. PAINKILLER._

Tyler tried to ease his throbbing head by massaging it, to no avail.

_God, my fucking head. Fuck everybody. _

Tyler headed towards his Hummer. He could still taste the acidic tinge of bile and vomit in his mouth. He swallowed, trying to get the taste away.

Tyler drove unsteadily, unthinking, and was only fully aware of the vicious headache he was experiencing.

He jammed hard on the brakes when he reached the pharmacy.

_Fucking pharmacist is going to fucking die if he doesn't give me painkillers._

Tyler stormed into the pharmacy and began looking wildly for headache relievers. He grabbed one and paid for it. The pharmacist stood as far away from Tyler as he could, glad that the counter was between them both. For Tyler was indeed a sight – splotches of vomit on his shirt, grimy and messy hair, features contorted in pain, and bloodshot eyes. Must be one hell of a headache.

And Tyler sat in the back seat his Hummer and swallowed the whole pack of painkillers.

* * *

**Sometimes I don't even know what I'm writing. Oh well. I'll do my best to make the next chapter a lot better. I've just been caught up with my studies lately. College is not all it's hyped up to be. **

**Ideas, prompts, etc. are all welcomed. I need them. (Sigh)**


	9. Understand

**9. Understand**

Tyler leant his throbbing head against the back window of the Hummer. He felt hot, and his brow was sweaty, and his limbs were aching horribly.

His fingers compulsively searched the packet of painkillers for any stray pills he might have missed. The bitter aftertaste of the painkillers pervaded his entire mouth. He wanted more.

His vision was becoming erratic, and slightly blurred. He fought for the mastery of his senses.

_More of the pills, the pain . . . pills. More. Please._

He clambered over into the driver's seat like a little boy, unsteady and jerkily. He laughed a weak laugh, but stopped, because it was making his head feel worse.

_Fuck the pain._

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and suddenly he felt powerful. Angry. He screamed hoarsely, a scream unheard by the passersby as the Hummer's windows were rolled up. His foot jammed hard on the accelerator, and the Hummer sped away.

* * *

The anger did not last. Tyler had gloried in the anger, screaming at the world, screaming through his pain, and for a while it had seemed that his pain was dulled ever so slightly.

But now the anger was gone, and with it lethargy and moroseness took hold of him.

Tears flowed from his eyes, making the world shimmer, and Tyler pulled the Hummer over to the side of the road. He had no strength, no will, to drive – he only felt the pain in his head, and the sadness in his heart.

The tears would not stop flowing, no matter how much he wiped his eyes using the sleeves of his jacket. He saw how dirty his jacket had become – the navy-blue dye was tainted with splotches of dried vomit, and his profuse sweating had dampened and rumpled the fabric. It was Reid's jacket, he remembered, but he didn't care.

* * *

_I will kill myself._

He knew it was the only way.

* * *

The teenage girl who worked part-time at a convenience store in downtown Ipswich yawned, and rapped her manicured fingernails on the counter.

She stared at the cash register longingly. _All that money in there, and here I am almost broke._

The door banged open loudly, and she looked up in surprise at the person who had just walked in.

It was a black-haired young man, definitely older than she was. And he looked really messed up. His navy-blue jacket was dirty, as if he had vomited on himself. He was visibly sweating – his neck and hands were shiny with sweat, and his jacket was damp. She stared at the way he walked jerkily round the store, ignoring her, and his hands fumbled carelessly with the products on the shelves.

She groaned as the odd-looking young man knocked over a stack of shampoo bottles. _What a klutz. And I have to freaking clean up after him._

But then she noticed that he was . . . attractive. Sure, she thought, right now his eyes are all puffed-up and vampire-red, and his hair is all sweaty and messy, and his lips are cracked, and he's really dirty, but – give him a bath, and maybe a trip to the doctor, and she would most definitely go out with him. No doubt about it.

The messed-up-but-hot-looking customer approached the counter, and she caught her breath. Maybe he wanted to ask her out.

But he threw a packet and some dollar bills onto the counter, and did not say a word.

It was only when the messed-up customer left that she realised what he had bought – a packet of razors. Bare razor blades. They had looked pretty sharp. For a brief worried moment she thought that maybe she ought to have asked him what he wanted the razors for.

Then she yawned another noisy yawn, and started inspecting her fingernails.

* * *

Caleb, Pogue and Reid had assembled in the back room of Nicky's bar. Pogue was nursing his head. Reid sat on the bed, holding Tyler's forgotten bag, while Caleb mused glumly at the vomit stains in the toilet.

"I'm gonna have a fucking concussion," complained Pogue vehemently. "Fuck that Tyler."

Caleb glanced at Reid. "How did Ty end up here anyway?" he ventured.

Reid stared at the floor. "We fought."

"Uh-huh. And?"

Reid raised his head to glare at Caleb's questioning look. "He _Used_ on me, okay? Used on me like he did to Pogue!"

"But what the hell were you two fighting about?"

"Just . . . stuff." Reid's blue eyes were downcast. "Look, we fought, okay? And he came here, I guess."

"There's something wrong with Tyler. Attacking Pogue, throwing up, I don't know, there's something wrong." Caleb walked over and knelt next to Pogue. "You all right?"

Pogue stopped rubbing his bruised head. "It's fine. I'll see a doctor. Whatever."

The three were silent, then Pogue spoke. "Tyler was . . . different. When he attacked me," Pogue hesitated. "Like he was mad. His eyes opened and they were completely black."

"I don't know where he is," muttered Reid, fumbling around with Tyler's bag.

Caleb gave a frustrated sigh and stood up. "Then we find him. We missed swimming practice anyway."

"Fuck swimming practice," commented Pogue.

Pogue said he would take a drive round town in his Ducati motorcycle, and look about for Tyler. Caleb said he would walk round the Spenser Academy grounds to search for the youngest Son. "No need to involve the police, at least not yet," said Caleb emphatically.

Reid thought he would just return to the dorms, and catch up on some sleep, and maybe think about where Tyler might have gone to. Maybe not. _If you're still mad at me, Ty, I don't care._

* * *

Tyler swallowed, still tasting the bitter tang of the painkillers. His hands were sweaty, making it difficult to grip the steering wheel, but he paid no heed to it. He was thinking about a suitable place where he could kill himself.

A bathtub? The shower room? The locker room? Swimming pool? His own Hummer? His dorm?

The packet of razors lay unopened on the passenger seat. It would be opened soon. Very soon.

The evening sky was a brilliant orange. Soon it would be dark.

* * *

Tyler sat on his bed, back in his dorm at last. He had become intimately acquainted with the razor blades he had bought, fingering the sharp edges fondly, pressing the blades into his palm to the point where his skin was very nearly pierced before stopping. He tried licking a razor blade to see how it would taste like. It had a metallic tang, and was cold against his tongue. He wondered if slitting his wrists would be painful. He had heard that dying from loss of blood was painful at first, but after that it was like falling into a deep sleep. Plenty of time to find out.

First things first. He removed the jacket he wore, then the shirt beneath. He was half-naked, but he ignored the chilly air on his bare chest. He took off his jeans, and was now clad only in his grey boxers. He placed the razor blades carefully beside him on the bed. This was it. This was goodbye. Fresh tears ran down from his eyes, but he did not know why. He didn't care anymore, anyway. He lay back and stared at the ceiling, wondering if he ought to slit his right wrist first, or his left. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except the pain in his head which would not go away, and the sadness which welled up in him.

He took a razor blade gently in one hand.

And then the doorknob shook. Someone was trying to get in. He had locked it earlier.

Tyler tensed up momentarily.

The sound of a key pushing through the doorknob, a twist, and suddenly Reid was in the room.

No words exchanged. Silence.

Tyler still held the razor blade in his hand, frozen. Caught.

Reid walked over slowly to Tyler, reached out and gently took the blade from Tyler's hand. Tyler gave no resistance. All energy had betrayed him. Reid gathered the razor blades, one by one, and threw them into the bin. Then Reid went back to the bed and took an unresisting Tyler in his arms, and pressed his lips to Tyler's.

Hoping that a kiss, and a hug, would banish all thoughts of self-mutilation. Hoping that Tyler would find hope in the kiss, in the hug.

So Tyler smiled, and kissed back. And Reid sighed inwardly in unspoken relief.

Then Reid pushed Tyler back down onto the bed, and enveloped the boxer-clad Son in his arms, refusing to let Tyler go, afraid of what Tyler might do if set free.

Not long after that, Reid fell into slumber, leaving Tyler awake and staring longingly at the bin, trapped in Reid's arms. The razor blades were in the bin, just out of reach.

But there was always tomorrow.


	10. Near END

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews ^__^ I wrapped this story up at last.**

* * *

The sun is already high in the sky. My clothes feel sweaty and uncomfortable.  
I want to take them off, but someone is holding me tightly.  
Who is this boy who presses close to me like this? His hair is as golden as the sunbeam.  
I disentangle myself from his lifeless arms.

_I smell the wolf._

The floor lamp looks sturdy and solid. I could swing it around easily.  
What about the swivel chair? If I apply enough strength, I could crush bone with it.  
But first, these troublesome clothes. I peel them off layer by layer.  
The soft breeze on my bare skin feels wonderful.

"What are you doing?"  
At the sound of his voice I turn. The blond boy has awakened.  
Why should I pay him any attention? There are more pressing matters at hand.

_The wolf is near._

No, I need his assistance. I walk over and roughly pull him up by his nightshirt.  
His face shows surprise. "Where is the silver?" I say.  
He remains silent.  
His blue eyes stare coldly at me. "Do not play games with me, Tyler," he says.

He calls me Tyler. But who is Tyler?  
He has confused me with someone else.  
So there is no silver in this accursed room.  
It does not matter. There is not much time left.

_I hear the wolf coming._

"Why are you naked?" he asks.  
I ignore his useless chatter and continue rummaging through the drawers.  
There must be a weapon somewhere.  
"Tyler, you know I care about you."  
My hand brushes against a boxcutter. The blade is short, but very sharp.  
Now I have my weapon.

_It is the wolf._

There is a knock on the door. I unsheathe the blade of the boxcutter.  
The door opens, and the wolf comes in.  
I hide the boxcutter behind my back and advance, but I know the wolf is clever.  
"Kate, there is something wrong with Tyler," says the foolish blond boy.  
Then the boy screams. The wolf has begun to take its true form.  
Now is my chance.

I slash and swipe with the boxcutter. Blood spatters onto the walls.  
The wolf howls and reaches for me with its claws, but I am too quick. I lunge for its throat.  
Time seems to slow down as I sever the wolf's head from its body.

The wolf is dead now.

The boy is sobbing in a corner. Perhaps I can spare some sympathy for him.  
But he cringes away from me. I laugh and pull him into my embrace.  
"Everything is all right now," I say.

Then he kisses me. He licks at my mouth, hungry as an infant.  
While the heat which surrounds us grows, he puts his hand between my legs.

It is a strange feeling.  
Such a strange feeling.

* * *

_**finis**_


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